SMOKY SKIES

This is not fog.  Nor is it a low-lying cloud.  It's smoke.

Here's a pulled-back view that gives you a better idea of its scope.

The smoke is billowing up over the Bradshaw Mountains from a controlled burn in the Prescott National Forest south of Prescott. The Forest Service hopes, by doing these burns, to prevent an out-of-control wildfire. The forest comes right up to Prescott and could do serious damage.


A few years ago, just such a fire scared the daylights out of a lot of people in Prescott and several outlying homes were lost.

So, in spite of a certain number of people who complain about the smoke drifting into town every time there is a controlled burn, it's probably a pretty good idea.

AUTUMN

Some afternoon sunlight through a screen door.

Changing colors in a bamboo plant

Fall colors on leaves

Ivy climbs a fence

Pampas against a blue sky

A wider screen view

The underside of a mimosa tree

And a mimosa pod

Autumn, sweet autumn

TRAGEDY

This is a shrine, probably about a mile or less from where I live.

Wednesday evening, around 7:30, a vehicle was being driven at a high rate of speed, went out of control and overturned on the passenger side.  A 12 year old boy who was a passenger was ejected and was pronounced dead at a nearby hospital.  Another passenger, a 9 year old boy, had a broken leg.  The 21 year old driver of the car suffered only minor injuries.  He is in jail, facing a number of serious charges.  Police say drugs and alcohol may have been involved.

These shrines erected at the site of fatal accidents have been growing.  I can remember seeing much more simple ones from much earlier days.  This one has stuffed animals, notes to the deceased, candles and other decorations.

It was a tragedy, regardless of the cause, for many people.  The driver of the vehicle probably will go to prison.  The 9 year old will be haunted by the experience for years.  The family and friends of the dead boy will suffer.  And a young life has been snuffed out for no good reason.

It is all very, very sad.

BIRD BRAINS

I swear this will be the last post I do for awhile with amusing (?) photos of birds.  So, let's get started.

"O.K.  Is everybody on board?  Staying dry?"

"Say, that's not a bad idea."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever seen."

"Oh, just shut your trap, willya."



"In my Easter bonnet . . ."



"Heh-heh-heh.  That's all, folks!"

DINING OUT

The subject of today's blog is the avian world and its members search for a good meal.

Sometimes that involves a bit of disagreement over whose meal is whose.

It seems this struggle goes on with smaller birds, as well, though perhaps a bit less strenuously.

Some of our colorful friends prefer to be fed directly by the chef, though this fellow seems to be considering the daily fare with some skepticism.

And always, in the bird world as in the human universe, there are the gourmets, who gaze on their impending meal with a curious eye and an imperious attitude.  Even a piece of cheese can be dissected for provenance, for appearance, for aroma before the ultimate test, taste.

I hasten to add that I took none of the preceding photographs and I know nothing of their creators.  As I said yesterday, they came in an e-mail, the modern way of receiving something "over the transom."

OVER THE TRANSOM

As I was thinking of a title for this blog, it occurred to me that many of you may be unfamiliar with a transom window.  I guess it's not a feature of many homes these days.  I suspect it was a feature dreamed up before air conditioning became prevalent.  Basically, it's a small window directly over a door that could be propped open for air flow.  Here's a photo of one.

Anyway an expression evolved as "something came in over the transom", meaning something unexpected came into your house through that window.

Now that we have that straight, I have a variety of items to show you that came to me by e-mail today (or over the transom.)

First is a series of remarkable photographs by a professional sports photographer in Phoenix of a giant dust storm this summer.  Take a look at the amazing photographs from the blog of Mark J. Rebilas.

Next some photographs of a home project at my cousin Bonnie's house in Billings, Montana.  The deck around their house was about 30 years old and they decided they needed a new one.  Here's how it began.



And here's the finished product.

Pretty darn nice, isn't it.  As Bonnie said, not bad for a bunch of amateurs.

You may remember my cousin Bonnie from an earlier post.  She's a bluegrass musician, playing a variety of instruments.  Looks to me like she's got her own stage for some concerts now.

Not being much of a handyman myself, you can well imagine when I saw these pictures I was all eyes.

  Or should I have said "owl eyes."  Actually, that was one of a number of photos sent to me by my friend, Meggie who blogs from "way down under", as we Northern Hemisphere snobs like to say.

I'll try to put some more pictures from "over the transom" on in another post.



DIDJA MISS ME?

I know, I know, I keep having these lapses in my blogging.  And I know when I don't post, there are millions out there who feel bereft. 

Well. 

Maybe not millions. 

Maybe thousands.

Hundreds?

Tens?

O.K.  Two or three.

But, you see, as I have said many times before I live a very sedentary life these days.  I don't think you'd be interested in my trips to the pharmacy to pick up prescriptions.

Or my now infrequent visits to the kitchen to try to cook something.

(However, I did make a foray there last night.  We had some leftover Kraft macaroni and cheese.  And several pieces of chicken that were cooked a few days ago.  So I had the idea to plate the mac and cheese and slice up the chicken fairly finely and arrange it over the m&c and heat it up in the microwave.  But I figured it might be pretty dry so I tried a trick I'd seen many fancy chefs use on the food channel.  I fried an egg, sunny side up, and placed it on top of everything else.  Y'know what?  It was pretty darn tasty!  But I don't think I'll send the recipe to Bon Appetit.)

So, any way.  I need something to blog about before I can bring myself to blog.  After several days of what we used to call in broadcasting "dead air", it arrived in an e-mail from the BRD this evening.

She said she'd brought the plants in for the winter and arranged them along with a couple of cat beds.  And she said it seemed to be kitty approved.  I agree.  Here's her photo.

On the top level, Lilly and Jet.  Underneath, Mister Taz.

The newcomer down below originally was called Taz, short for the Tasmanian Devil.  But of late the BRD says she's been calling him "Mister" more often.  So I have dubbed him Mister Taz.

Or, like most cats, maybe he just chose his own name.